The Society for the Abolition of the 18th St. Subway Station
Need I say more? I needn't, but superfluousness being the theme of the day, I shall.
You're drunk. It's nearing midnight at the 14th St. stop and you're headed to 72. You're waiting in that uncertain cusp on the IRT when you don't know if the express trains are still running. You wait a full 9 minutes hoping the 3 will come charging down the left lane. But no, gently the 1 train ambles up to the local track and you make your calculations.
"Is it worth getting on and maybe missing the express?"
"I could always change at 42nd."
"No dog gone it, I'm going to wait."
15 minutes go by. Nothing. By 10 minutes you already know you've made the wrong bet, and when another 1 lumbers in on the local track, you reluctantly enter and cut your losses.
As the local train dribbles out of the station at well below its cruise speed, you attempt to salvage the situation. "Maybe the 2 will show up just as we pull in to Times Square, and I can at least claim to break even. . ."
But just as your enthusiasm mounts and only moments after leaving the 14th St. station the conductor suddenly slams on the brakes. What is it? A track fire? An electrical outing? A flood maybe?
No. It's the 18th St. Subway Station.
Nobody gets on. The doors sit open for the requisite 15 seconds, rubbing the salt in to your self-recriminations, and then the train surges forward- again well below cruise.
Now you're sick to your stomach. "How could I have let that first train go? I'd already waited 10 minutes. I would have been home by now. . ." But then suddenly the train comes screeching to a halt. 23rd St.
"Oy," you think. "Should've taken a cab."
The preceding story is only a slight dramatization of a situation that befalls New Yorkers hundreds of times each day. Why, oh why must we stop at the 18th St. Subway Station?
When I was young, people took the bus. They took the bus to go to the 'in between' blocks, the non-crosstown blocks. Even the fattest, unhealthiest old lady could get off the bus and be not more than 2 blocks from her desired cross St. The subway was intended for the hardier and for those who were in a hurry to cover longer distances.
Subway stations were generally spaced so that at most each station would be no farther than 8 or 10 blocks apart, meaning no one would have to walk more than 4 or 5 blocks in either direction to catch their train. If need arose, they could always take the bus for those in between blocks.
But this sensible partitioning of our public transport breaks down in Chelsea. For the mile stretch between Waverly and 30th St. you are never more than 2 blocks from a train station.
The contention of SA18SSS is that if you can't walk more than 2 blocks to get to the train, then you probably can't make it up and down the stairs to get you to the station, and you should probably do what everybody else in that situation does: take the bus.
Not that I don't have sympathy with some of the Chelseaites who adore their own special slice of underground real estate. My dear friend Max is heir to a loft right on 18th between 6th and 7th that in my youth I frequented frequently. I would get off at 18th street in the dead of winter and not even bother putting on my scarf since I would be inside within moments. What a pleasure.
But I can not justify this profligacy in any real sense when I think of the economic implications for the city- to say nothing of the spite visited upon 18th St. exiters by those forced to accommodate their convenience.
No.
I estimate that each forced stop at the 18th St. subway station adds between 45 and 120 seconds to each subway ride (including slower travel speed, passenger exchange, and the occasional holding open of doors). Multiply this by the number of passengers on the train and multiply that by the number of trains running up and down the IRT every day. Now multiply that by 365 and you'll get the number of lost man-hours of work (and lost shopping hours on the weekends), and you'll realize that the 18th St. subway station is simply a luxury we can't afford.
I know there will be protests from the folks who live nearby and from that crappy falafel place on 19th st whose only business must come from those in transit to the 18th St. stop. But New Yorkers are a sturdy breed, and we've been through a lot together. Surely this is one more hardship we can endure for the greater good.
So I say: the time for action is now. Join us at SATANS (maybe an easier acronym) and keep the tracks of New York well lubed for the challenges ahead.
SATANS - it's a *hell* of an idea.
